


Gone

by Missesbean



Series: Gone [1]
Category: Olympics RPF, Sports RPF, Swimming RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-06
Updated: 2012-08-06
Packaged: 2017-11-22 06:34:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/606876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missesbean/pseuds/Missesbean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryan's Gone, What's Michael Going to Do?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gone

**Author's Note:**

> A part of a series that is on hiatus/finished for now. 
> 
> I own nothing but my ideas, this is all fiction, meaning none of this actually happened. No infringement intended in any manner, just a brain bubble.

  


It was moments like these that Michael would never forget or want to relive.  The pain and nausea Michael had felt for the past week was more than enough to handle. Just sitting beside Devon was enough to make Michael's stomach do several flip turns. Add in the monotone voice of the minister’s voice and the sniffles from Megan and Kristin... And their children's tears as well and Michael had lost it. The second the little boy had asked Mike if Wuncle Wyan was with him, he had lost every piece of his composure. He’d had to hide his face for a moment, a half choke, half sob heaved from him as he shook his head no. 

  
  
  
No, Ryan wasn't with him. Not now.  Not tomorrow. Not next week.  Never again.

  
  
Standing at the graveyard, Michael hadn't realized Devon had gravitated beside him, biting his bottom lip, trying to not lose it.  The younger Lochte boy’s eyes would flicker toward Mike every now and then, then down at the hole in the ground, then to his shoes. Well, Ryan’s shoes.  Someone had to don the Martian’s now.  Mike hadn’t realized how badly he was going to need the younger Lochte in the next few weeks and months. Or how badly Devon was going to need him, ironically enough.

  
  
  
  
In fact, all he realized, was there would be no more stolen kisses in the ready room when it was just them, everyone else already headed out.  No more late night rolls in their shared hotel room during trips, no more stole touches, no more, anything.  He wished he could have said more in his goodbye to Ryan before he’d gotten on the “Road to Death” as Michael was now calling it.  Sure, he’d given Ry a kiss goodbye, a hug, one of those amazing Ryan hugs.  You know, the hug where Ryan all but squeezed your organs out, showering you with his love, one of those.  Not everyone was lucky enough to know those hugs, but Mike had and he already missed those.  Right now, a Rybear hug was just what he needed. 

  
  
  
  
He didn't realize as he called Devon late one Thursday evening, just to hear his voice.  Though it wasn't identical to Ryan's, it was as close as he would get now.  
  
  
  
  
Their conversations were always the same. How was the other doing, how was Ryan’s family doing and how was Mike, how was Carter liking his new home in Baltimore.  
  
  
  
  
The answers were always the same. Just okay, getting by, making do with what they had too. Nothing was ever exciting or perky, it was always a sad conversation, but they always hung up feeling a little bit better. Michael always got a little bit of Reezy from Devon.  Not much, but enough to remind him how much d missed the goofy, curly haired, relaxed backstroker.  Enough to leave Michael feeling empty and missing a piece. Devon filled it three fourths of the way for those few minutes. Mike knew he wouldn't ever feel the same.

\- - - 

It finally hit home with Michael that Ryan was dead (he hated that word), on his birthday.  It was the first time he hadn’t been called at 12:01, consistently causing the phone to ring until he answered.  Ryan wasn’t going to call, but, Michael found himself awake and staring at his phone at 12:00, waiting for it to hit 12:01, then 12:02, 12:03, 12:04, no Ryan. 

  
  
  
He was gone.  He wasn’t going to call anymore.  It hurt; it hurt more than anything he had ever felt in his entirety of life.  He was broken, alone, and cold.  It didn’t help that Carter still sat in the doorway of his bedroom, whining every night until Mike would throw a blanket over the big lug, who slept in the doorway, eyes on the stairway for his Dad.  They were both consistently disappointed when there was no bounding of Ryan up the stairs, squealing or anything.  It was always too quiet. 

  
  
  
  
That afternoon, Devon called to wish him a happy birthday, trying to be Ryan esque, but not succeeding.  Michael found himself more depressed than anything after talking to Devon.  No matter how hard he tried, he wasn’t Ryan, and he couldn’t fix Michael.  Never, would he be fixed. 

  
  
  
  
Michael hadn’t really cried over Ryan.  Sure, he’d choked, sputtered, gotten misty eyes, but he hadn’t ever cried.  Not until his birthday dinner with his family and Bob, against Michael’s wishes of course.  The idea of a party had made him nauseous, and he didn’t want cake either, but his mother had refused to not do something.  So apple pie and dinner it was.    He’d been in the kitchen, putting more pie on his plate when Bob came in behind him.  One look at Bob, and Michael lost it all.  He dropped his plate in the sink with a clatter, all of it hitting him instantly with that one stupid look at Bob.  The tears soared down his face, all of the emotion he’d been trying to battle, just, bubbling to the surface in angry rolls.   Michael didn’t know what had happened, but, he was hiding his face in Bob’s shoulder, like a little boy who’s Mom had gotten mad at him.  Bob didn’t say anything, just pat Michael on the back and let him cry. Bob knew Michael needed this, it was obvious, he was like a walking time bomb, and finally the fuse had burnt all the way, BOOM. 

  
  
  
For several minutes, Mike stayed right where he was, clinging to Bob like the little boy again.  Had anyone been watching, he wouldn’t have even cared, he was past that point.  His Ryan was gone, what was the point of anything anymore? 

  
  
  
  
Pulling himself together, he backed away from Bob, wiped his eyes with the back of his hands and looked down, still not saying a word.  Bob gave Michael that look, not wanting to leave if he needed him still, but, not wanting to invade on his quiet time. Bob knew how Michael was; he would leave it up to him for how everything worked.    Michael pulled himself together, picked up the pieces of his broken plate, and went back into the dining room, too wrapped up in his own thoughts to notice his mom and sisters looking at him with the ever constant careful glance.  He thought about stopping at the table and sitting down, but instead, he strode by and moved towards the Doberman sitting on the floor, watching his every move. 

Wrapping his arms around the dog, Michael hid his face in the dog’s fur, rubbing his body gently, not even caring that his mother and sisters were watching.  Carter was as close as he got to Ryan now; well, unless Devon was around. Nobody made another comment, just carried on, carefully maneuvering around the man and the dogs, Herman having climbed up beside them both on the sofa where they now rested.  Michael was lost. 

  
  
\- - 

Months went by, Michael not getting over the loss of his love.  He and Ryan had been more than boyfriends, everybody knew it.  They were, well, life partners, had been the silly term Ry had coined, but now, Michael yearned to hear him say something stupid right now.  He’d never realized how much he liked hearing the word Jeah. 

  
  
  
Bob surprised him at practice one day with duffel packed.  He’d told him they were going to the airport.  Michael hadn’t argued, just went along with it, never saying a word.  Michael had always been quiet, but now, it was like he was a mute, and Bob couldn’t take any more of it.  He thought some time in Florida would do the trick.  He put Michael on a chartered flight to Gainesville, having talked to Gregg for a while about getting Michael to do something, anything. Scream, yell, cry, laugh, or argue, anything.  Bob had been trying for weeks now to get Michael angry with him so he’d see some sort of emotion, but never did he get anything.  He was a walking zombie. 

  
The flight to Florida had been long and horrible, Michael thought about Ryan the whole time.  If Bob thought sending him to Florida was a good idea, he was mistaken.  Devon had greeted him at the airport, looking more and more like Ryan every day, he was.  Michael gave him a half hug, grabbed his carryon and was on his way out, not having said a word yet.  

  
  
In the navigator on the way to the Lochte’s, Devon finally broke the silence. 

  
  
  
** “He wouldn’t want you like this, you know?”   ** He turned towards Mike for a few seconds, looking over the scruffy man, taking in just how, bad, he looked.  Michael shrugged, not thinking it really mattered what Ryan would want right now.  Ryan was gone. 

  
  
  
Devon had what he called the ‘healing’ day planned, complete with a visit to all of Ryan’s favorite places, along with his grave. Michael wasn’t looking forward to any of it, but he was going to try; he was so very tired of being miserable. 

  
  
  
The day had started out okay, an unhealthy breakfast with Dev, skateboarding terribly for the both of them, xbox, lunch at the bar, an afternoon of drinking beer and more video games, and then the one event Michael really hadn’t been looking forward too. 

As he sat on the grass near the headstone, he looked down at the stone, fingers tracing over the etching as Devon sat in the car, listening to some rap cd and texting, giving Mike some ‘space.’  Before Michael had really even thought about it, he was talking to nobody, just needing to get some shit out. 

  
  
  
** “I’m mad at you. . . you promised you wouldn’t leave me. . . you’re gone Ry. . . and it’s all my fault.   I told you that we couldn’t keep doing this long distance thing; we had to figure it out. . and look where that got you.  I was the worst thing ever for you, I got you killed, and, I’m sorry. . . I told you I’d take care of you and I didn’t, I let you go during rush hour and fuck, Ry.  I just, I miss you so much and I don’t even know what I’m doing anymore.  I’m so sorry.  Just, please, help me Ryan, please?’  **

He waited, expecting an answer, but felt a hand on his shoulder, causing him to jump when he heard the words.   **“I’m right here.  . . calm down.”** Mike looked over his shoulder, gazing dreamily up at Ryan’s face, hand reaching for him.  Devon stood looking down at Mike with a confused expression, shaking his shoulder a little more.   **“Mike, dude, right here, breathe man. . . come on. . .”** It was then that Michael realized it wasn’t Ryan, it was Devon.  Ryan was still gone. 

  
  
  
Gathering himself mentally and emotionally, Mike nodded, wiping at his face, standing up and wanting to get the hell away from here.  Devon tried to reassure Michael it wasn’t his fault, but Mike just shook his head, not wanting to her anything Devon had to say. 

  
  
The ride back to the house was horrible, Michael wanted to jump off a cliff and never look back.  He didn’t know what to do. Devon was quiet, hand slowly creeping across the console to pat Mike’s shoulder.  He cleared his throat before speaking,  **“Mike. . . you can get through this. I know it’s hard, but uhm, let me help you?’**   It was in that moment that Michael looked over at Devon and saw hope.  If he couldn’t have Ryan, he’d have Devon, in whatever form of whatever he could get.  This, was as close as he could get.   He might not have been Reezy to the MPeezy, but, he was D, and he could get Michael through this. 

  
  
  
** “Jeah?”  **

  
  
** “Jeah, bros for life, man.”  **

  
  
Michael smiled, a tiniest of smiles, nodding a little bit.  He could do this.  He had too; he had to take care of Ryan’s family.  It was his job now. 

  



End file.
